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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545612">Taeko's Honor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChardonneretCeleste/pseuds/ChardonneretCeleste'>ChardonneretCeleste</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Bisexual Kirigiri Kyoko, Celestia Ludenberg is a Stalker, Coffee Shops, Crimes &amp; Criminals, Detective Noir, Eventual Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi, Eventual Smut, F/F, Kirigiri Kyoko is Bad at Feelings, Kirigiri Kyoko is so Done, Lesbian Celestia Ludenberg, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia Boss Celestia Ludenberg, Maybe - Freeform, Minor Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto, Nervous Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi Is a Little Shit, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Stalking, Tags Are Hard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:34:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,199</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChardonneretCeleste/pseuds/ChardonneretCeleste</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirigiri is the best detective around, and she knows it. Any case that comes her way is resolved in half the time it would take anyone else.</p><p>This is different.</p><p>A severed finger, an ominous warning from an annoying teen, a random earring and a copy of "Prizzi's Honor" lead her to her latest deduction: she's being followed.</p><p>And her stalker has no intention of making this one easy for her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kirigiri Kyoko/Celestia Ludenberg, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Series of Oddities</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The agency didn’t have much air flow running through it, nor any ventilation systems that might cause consistent noise to echo through the too-many office spaces. As a result, the trail of quiet sobs leaving through the sliding door at the moment was a most unusual occurrence, shaking up the usual deadness with an overwhelming aura of grief.</p><p>Kyoko watched the young, blue haired woman as she exited, considering her reasons for being here. <em> Maizono, Sayaka </em>, Kyoko recalled, sliding the girl’s latest file in front of her. She’d come in four times this week alone, but this was the first time she’d left in tears. Her case was rather odd, and even Kyoko had to admit it only got more unsettling by the day...</p><p>“Hey, Kirigiri, do you, uh, have a second?” She shuffled her scattered papers back together in their usual stack and looked up. There stood her apprentice, looking nervous as always, and hiding his golden gaze under the shadow of blue strands and that dumb looking baseball cap Kyoko kept trying to get him to take off.</p><p>“What do you need, Saihara?”</p><p>“Ah, well, I have some notes you might want to take a look at soon.” Saihara bit his lip and scanned his eyes over the papers he brought. “It’s related to Maizono, but…”</p><p>He brought his pale hand to his face and trailed off, focusing on nothing in particular. This was an odd, and, in Kyoko’s opinion, bad habit of his whenever he thought too hard.</p><p>“I was just going over that. Judging by your facial expression and your behavior lately, may I guess that this has something to do with that boy who keeps coming into my office just to talk to you?”</p><p>“W-what? Ouma?” He paused, noticing her unwavering expression. “Actually, yes it does. He’s hard to understand, but I think I have him figured out. He hides behind lies and playfulness because he doesn’t trust anyone, but for some reason he keeps talking to me. Obviously, he’s trying to tell me something, and I think it’s important, or else he wouldn’t keep humoring my questions- I’ve written down everything he’s said if you want to, uh, take a look at that?”</p><p>Kyoko took the notes from his hand, noticing that he had indeed written out a perfect transcript of dialogue going back to the first time the two had spoken. “Impressive. Do you take notes during these conversations? They aren’t official interviews or interrogations, so you have no need.”</p><p>“Sometimes, but me pulling out my notes tends to make him fall a lot harder into the ‘detective/criminal’ fantasy thing, so I prefer to just write down the conversations after the fact.”</p><p>Kyoko hummed in mild amusement as the notepad transcript joined the many files stacked neatly on her desk. She clicked her tongue. “Your memory will never cease to amaze me, Saihara. I’ll let you know what I think after reviewing these and I’ll call you back here if I need anything. You are dismissed.”</p><p>He nodded sharply. “Yes ma’am, thank you,” he muttered, and then turned away to wander off who knew where.</p><p><em> Maizono, Maizono, Maizono… </em> Kirigiri repeated, scanning for any mention of her latest client. <em> Aha. </em>She read the section of dialogue to herself, imagining the annoying purple haired teenager and her own young apprentice speaking.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em> “I know what you’re doing, Ouma, so I’m just going to ask. Why are you really here?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Don’t believe me, Shumai? That’s a shame! I know Maizono believed it when she got poor Watanabe’s finger in the mail!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Wait, what? How do you know about that?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You know, I really thought you were better at listening. But I guess you’re more naive than I thought. Maizono got in some reeeally deep trouble with some reeeally scary people, and you guessed it, I’m one of them!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “So, you’re flat out telling me that you cut off some girl’s finger as a threat to one of her bandmates? Ouma, do you even know what the penalty for that would be?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Who knows? I could be telling you that, but I’d hate to lie to my beloved Shuichi. I checked and you’re not recording this, so I guess you’ll just have to figure it out on your own, Mr. Detective~” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Just tell me what you know about Maizono.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “She has a great voice! I’ve heard her sing before in person, really. She also makes a lot of interesting decisions so she’s definitely NOT boring. Oh, and one more thing.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What is it?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “She’s completely and totally doomed. This whole thing runs a lot deeper than me or Maizono. I won’t be coming by anymore, but good luck to you two!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Us… two?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You and Detective Kirigiri? Tell anyone else and they’ll kill you, but… I’m pretty sure we’ll be seeing you guys around. Watch your back. Bye, Shuichi!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-</em>
</p><p>How… peculiar. Saihara was right about this kid being hard to understand, and she could practically see his teasing expressions as she read over some of his lines. Ouma could not be trusted, that much was obvious, but somehow he knew about Maizono’s case. And the last part sounded less like one of his usual threats and more like… a warning. “<em> Tell anyone else and they’ll kill you, but… I’m pretty sure we’ll be seeing you guys around. Watch your back.” </em>What did he mean by that? What did he mean by any of this? Why were Kyoko and Saihara so deeply involved? </p><p>The lack of answers was starting to get on her nerves, so Kyoko turned back to the actual analysis they’d done on the severed finger and what little information they had been able to get out of the singer. Her friend was still alive, thankfully, but in a coma the length of which no one could be sure. No fingerprints on the envelope sent by the criminals, (well, from the culprits, that is…) no hair, either. Whoever did this was smart. They could use Ouma as a lead in theory, but he was impossible to look up and had no real evidence against him they could use to warrant a pursuit. Not only that, but other detectives at the agency had tried to figure out his address, the less moral of them even following him, but still… nothing. He was like a ghost. Only popping up every once in a while, insisting on speaking only to Saihara, and then disappearing right after.</p><p>Kyoko sat back in her desk chair staring up at the cracks in the desolate ceiling. She let her white bangs brush to either side of her forehead and the rest of her hair hang loose behind her. This week had started out like any other, and big cases weren’t exactly foreign to her. It was her job here to handle what no one else could, but this simple Maizono case was working up to be something much more complicated. She’d never say it out loud, but she wasn’t sure even <em> she </em>could figure this one out on her own.</p><p>A sudden, quiet jingling sound from her desk alerted her to yet another oddity. There, in a plane of mahogany, sat a single, round golden bell with a hook attached, likely no greater in size than a chapstick. Kyoko ran her gloved fingers over it, picking it up by the hooked end and letting it dangle in the air. An… earring? How on earth had an earring of this size just… <em> appeared </em> right in front of her? A quick, but thorough glance around determined that there was nothing else new or noteworthy in the area surrounding it, and the object itself was not inherently dangerous. Still, it was suspicious. She removed a plastic snack bag from her purse and placed the odd earring inside. <em> Just in case… </em> she told herself, and began packing up the rest of her materials. </p><p>“I’m leaving now, I’ll do the rest of today’s work from home. If anyone needs me, you have my number,” she announced to anyone nearby, slipping on her coat and purse and making her way to her car. On her phone, she typed in the intended location to her map, though by now she certainly didn’t need its help. She fully intended to head home, but first she’d treat herself to a coffee at her favorite cafe nearby. After this day, she reasoned, she deserved it.</p><p>--</p><p>The rich aroma of freshly ground coffee filled her senses as Kyoko took one step into the threshold. This was her favorite coffee shop for a reason, the lighting low and elegant, walls made of stone and red wooden floors decorated with a couple of patterned rugs. </p><p>On the other side of the cafe sat a bookshelf filled completely with every kind of book imaginable. She herself was quite fond of the trashy vintage mystery novels whose yellowed pages had an even stronger and more distinct scent than any food or drink made there. The shop was privately owned, with a cozy lodge feel to it that Kyoko couldn’t get anywhere else nearby and found perfect for concentrating on work.</p><p>“Can I help you?” An unfamiliar, soft female voice spoke, tainted lightly by some sort of European accent. The barista, a woman probably around her late-twenties and close in age to Kyoko, was one she hadn’t seen in all of her many visits to this building. Her black hair was short and slick, her features sharp and sly looking, framed by two long raven strands and a curtain of bangs which formed a point between her eyebrows, imitating the shape of a widow’s peak. Her red eyes were narrow and almost elegant in appearance themselves as they examined Kyoko. She wore the typical uniform of a dark brown apron cinched at the waist, but she paired it with a lacy, gothic white blouse on which a small black ribbon was tied at her collar bone.</p><p>Kyoko opened her mouth to recount her usual order, but looking at the barista, quickly changed her mind. “Yes, I’d like one cafe au lait, please.”</p><p>The woman chuckled. “That’s an interesting choice this late in the day. Feeling in the mood for something a bit more foreign, no?” She worked the French press, gathering everything she needed and preparing the drink quickly and efficiently.</p><p>“I suppose I am. I’ve never seen you working here before. Tell me, are you new?”</p><p>“Are you sure about that? I can assure you I am not new to this job at all.”</p><p>“That’s… odd. I’m certain I would remember you.”</p><p>“Do not blame yourself. After all, no one can remember everything, hm?” The glint in the barista’s red eyes was undeniably mischievous, her lips pursed and her eyebrow raised out of expectation or amusement, perhaps some mixture of both, at Kyoko. When it was apparent that the detective was not going to respond, she said, “Since you do not remember me, I should tell you that you may call me Celeste. Here is your drink.”</p><p>Kyoko muttered a “Thank you,” and took the bowl and saucer, partially irritated at herself for ordering the one coffee on the menu with no easy way to lift, thanks to the French style. She payed with one of her numerous credit cards and quickly found a place at a table right beside the old bookshelf. </p><p>“Are you looking for something to read, detective?”</p><p>The detective hesitated for a moment. This barista was no doubt creepy, but Kyoko couldn’t deny her interest. Maybe… she could see where this was going. “I’m not sure, actually. I didn’t come in looking for anything.”</p><p>“Well then, do you want my recommendation?” Celeste didn’t wait for an answer, sauntering over to Kyoko and humming as she did so. Her doll-like hands feathered through the books, almost like playing cards; slight, accurate. “Ahah!” She sang out. “This is a personal favorite of mine.”</p><p>She held a simple, hard cover black book, worn and faded from time. In the center, bold, red print read, “<em> Prizzi’s Honor. </em>”</p><p>“It may not be entirely accurate, but, ah-” Celeste slid the book to Kyoko, moving her hand atop it. For once, she was glad she always wore gloves- even as it was, she felt the soft, cold texture of the barista’s hand strangely caressing her through the fabric. As good as she may be at maintaining an unchanging expression, warm blood betrayed her, creeping its way up to her cheeks. The raven haired woman giggled a bit. “You should take it home with you, and read it. You may find yourself enamored.”</p><p>She slipped her hand away, and Kyoko studied the pages a bit more in detail. They were cut smoothly, but the longer she looked, the more obvious a collection of bookmarks and annotated pages became. That was strange, the books here were not supposed to have any sort of writings in them, which meant someone had done this without the knowledge of the cafe’s owners. There was no way she would refuse this offer. “I guess I will. Thank you.” She tucked the book away in her bag, and remained a few more moments in silence, drinking the rest of her coffee. </p><p>The second she downed the last drop, Kyoko got up from her seat, eager to get home and start reading the book. Well, not so much the book itself- but rather the many notes inside.</p><p>“Going so soon?” the barista asked, mock disappointment in her voice. Kyoko gave a single sharp nod.</p><p>“The work day isn’t exactly over for me, so yes, I’m leaving.”</p><p>She turned the old brass doorknob, feeling Celeste’s gaze follow her like a dagger. “I will see you soon then, Kyoko.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Celeste walks through a typical today, managing her own casino and an organized crime syndicate in her spare time. But today, an important client shows up with a proposal for her... one she sees as an excellent opportunity.</p><p>Also featuring little bro Kokichi because I couldn't help it :)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry this took so long! Life has been hectic and my mental health hasn't been the best, but I finally found the motivation to get this out. Don't worry, chapter three is already in the works and getting the excitement rolling! For now, welcome to a day in the life of Celestia Ludenberg.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Thank God,” Celestia spoke under her breath, coming to the pair of massive fake drills she wore when she </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> pretending to be some petty barista. Whatever, it would all be worth it in the end... She removed the extensions from their hangers, turning to the vanity set just left of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next few minutes were spent lathering the hair pieces with product, using up way too many clips and bobby pins and of course, fastening her lace headband and ribbons on with ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She touched up her makeup, not worrying too much about making it dramatic, for now. She had to get out to the casino, they were expecting her there. Putting down the last of her brushes and turning away from the vanity, she heard an unmistakable ringing sound, her parlor phone just outside the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holding the smooth silver handle in her hand, she listened to the voice of her caller. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Ludenburg, Togami is here to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? What a surprise. What does he want?” She asked, recognising the sound of one of her more recent, and likely smarter hires, Kirumi Toujo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wishes to discuss a potential partnership.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent news. Tell him to wait one moment, I’ll be out with refreshments.” Byakuya Togami had been in communication with Celeste and the others for quite a while, and was one of the Kumabara Family’s main contacts in the tech savvy world of business. Every member of the “family” had a life outside of their work with the mafia, but Togami seemingly had none outside of his business pursuits. A crucial difference Celeste noted. While the line of morality between the underground world and the normal one was not so strictly defined for most of them, Togami possessed the distinct ability to clearly define what he spent his time and resources on, and when. If Celete could only learn to master this skill herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stepped into the back room, where she kept a constantly newly heated kettle of tea and a tray of cookies. She removed the tray with the kettle and a set of her most expensive teacups, lined with faint gold tracings and carried them out to meet with her esteemed guest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kirumi waited expectantly as Celeste crossed the threshold into the public part of the casino… Her casino.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She handed over the tray, which Kirumi accepted with near-robotic grace. Celeste liked to take in the most elegant workers under her wing, but that didn’t mean they weren’t individuals-  Kirumi, specifically, took heavily to maid service and was endlessly selfless and loyal in everything she did, unlike others who favored sharper wit and self-preservation. While Celeste appreciated this, she found it difficult to talk casually to the girl. Even if Kirumi always called her by her adopted surname, Celeste insisted that they were family, and the family always used each other's first names. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A pleasure to see you, Togami. Tell me, what brings you to the Jester’s Plaza tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took a seat next to her client, double checking briefly that she still had her pocketbook on her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can forego the pleasantries, Celeste. I’m coming to you because we at the Togami corporation have the opportunity to close a deal with a rather eccentric client, but in order to make the offer at all enticing to them, we’ll need to enlist some of your... services.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Celeste pulled up a chair next to the man and handed him her notebook, opened to the proper page.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I get started for you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She saw his eyes flicker over the page under his glasses, and he made a show of raising his eyebrow in understanding. “An order of italian breadsticks- seven and a half total. Four rice bowls, and please, don’t let any lowlifes near them. One plate of linguine… extra marinara sauce, and… tonight’s special, for dessert.” He looked her dead in the eye, finished with the mock order she’d made him carry out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Celeste had to admit, she was a bit impressed. When she sorted out deals like this in public, it was important to have a code so no one could listen in and catch her… at least, that was her outward justification for it. The truth was it would be much easier to bring the clients somewhere more private, her security was </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> than good enough to ensure they weren’t being watched, but she enjoyed watching her customers go through this little trick. Usually, they fumbled over the menu and made a fool of themselves. It was a clever idea Kokichi had helped her come up with- a risky little game, and an important opportunity to test the clients’ lying skills. Togami was up to par.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That will cost you. The special is extremely well-made and important not to waste.” She looked him in the eye, but he maintained his composure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. If I couldn’t afford it, I wouldn’t come to you.” His voice was like ice, slowly wearing away at her skin in a dull attempt to hurt her, making her more numb by the second. She could really use someone like this as a closer ally. “How much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends. Who do you want to serve the special to?”</span>
</p><p><span>Rather than answering aloud, Togami silently passed over a file. She scanned it briefly. This would be a big job, no doubt, and she’d have to pay her best assassins quite the handsome reward.</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>Celeste thought for a second. No one, </span><em><span>no one</span></em><span> was better at working out big wins than Celestia Ludenberg. Perhaps at her own casino, one could use the excuse that “the house always wins,” but she could hold her own against any of these losers in a fair match, easily. She took a handkerchief from her pocket, running its fabric through her fingers as she re-played all he’d asked for in her head. The drugs on their own would cost him a fortune, especially in that quantity, and she’d need to check with Enoshima before closing something of that nature. And the “special” was a whole different story. However…</span></p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, she looked back down at the handkerchief she was holding. Not her usual lace covered silk, but a simple, thin cotton square bearing a navy and brown plaid pattern. It was her favorite handkerchief by far. She took it everywhere. Everything was because of…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The detective. My detective.” Celeste’s voice spoke without her meaning to, and without any of its usual flair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cleared her throat and tucked the fabric away. “I have a certain favor to ask of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time she left, the Jester’s Plaza had only a select crowd of casino goers trying their luck at the slots, and her night manager, Hinata, had already been working his shift for several hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her home was a fairly large and nice one, certainly no European castle, but enough to be a source of envy to someone less fortunate. It was important all of Celeste’s larger acquisitions lined up with what she went on record as doing for work, and this place was perfect. Windows only in the front rooms and the sun room, and decorative panels everywhere else. Perfect for keeping neighbors out of her business. Perfect for “family meetings.” Sure, those were typically held at the Plaza or whatever hotel Enoshima was paying off, but Celeste never knew when she’d suddenly have company. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door swung open to greet her, and her favorite pale-faced, grape-haired kid stood there before her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Taeko! You’re home!” He shouted, and she shoved him inside, slamming the door behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quiet, you idiot! You really are gonna get me killed one day.” She brushed off her everyday clothing and took a breath. “My name is Celestia Ludenberg. Now, and always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suuuure, Taeko. You look really out of it, though. Did something happen? Ooh, lemme guess! Was it the girl?” Celeste hated the shit eating grin on his face, also wishing at times like this that she could bring herself to hate its wearer. But Kokichi was more like family to her than anyone- she’d practically adopted him. He was like her little brother, cut from exactly the same cloth.</span>
</p><p><span>She sighed. “Yes, Kyoko is involved. That’s a stupid question.”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Oh, I know. Lighten up, Tae. Don’t you think you’re getting a </span><em><span>little</span></em><span> too obsessed?”</span></p><p>
  <span> “Byakuya Togami showed up, asking me to make him a deal. About two tons of coke and a lot of other shit, too. Also… he asked me to bump off someone up high. I offered for him to pay less in exchange for…” He raised an eyebrow in a teasing manner, and mouthed the word “obsessed.” At that, she lost it. “You think this is a joke, Kokichi?! You think I’m doing all this for some silly childhood crush? So what if I’m getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>a little </span>
  </em>
  <span>obsessed? This will… this has to be perfect.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put his hands behind his head and smiled, making her nearly forget altogether that she was upset with him. “Okay, okay! I know, you don’t need to remind me. Besides, I never said I wasn’t having fun! I’m in as long as you keep letting me talk to Shumai.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shumai? You mean the detective’s apprentice? You really do take after me, Cookie.” The two of them collapsed down onto the living room sofa, and Kokichi, clad in cartoon covered pajamas, rocked back and forth in a butterfly position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll go on a double date,” he stated, quite matter-of-factly. “We’ll go on a double date and make them pay for it, because I’m completely broke!” Celeste smirked to herself, but decided to play along for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will be just like the last double date I went on. We’ll take a private tour of the Himalayas on horseback. That was quite the trip, I remember we stopped to have lunch somewhere they refused to serve anything that wasn’t at least partially made from almonds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! And you said they wouldn’t stop calling you “Cecelia” the whole time! Non non, we’ll definitely make them take us somewhere much better. Maybe a roadside carnival or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Celeste nodded, and they stayed in the silence of their string of lies for a moment. Then, in perfect unison, they burst out into fits of laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cookie, we should really be getting to bed, don’t you think? We have a big week ahead of us.”</span>
</p><p><span>“Oh, yeah! Did Kyoko get the book?”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“She did… I can’t wait to see what she thought of all of my lovely annotations.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure she’ll fall in love with them. Maybe, they’ll make </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to protect something a little more important too, if you know what I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I absolutely do not,” Celeste stated flatly. The book, it was all about the book. She worried about whether she’d made her instructions and clues clear enough, or perhaps vague enough that they couldn’t give Kyoko grounds to ask for help. She’d been setting that book up for ages, ever since she first met the detective all that time ago, and she’d studied everything she could about the way the woman’s mind worked. And if she hadn’t massively failed, this book should have been all it took to make the detective commit to her case. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t wait to see you around, Kyoko, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh you know, maybe she’ll be a little more invested in preserving… I don’t know… let’s call it Taeko’s honor, hm?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello lovelies! I've been meaning to post on here forever, but only finally got around to it. I have a lot planned for this fic so expect the tags to change in the near future- especially as some other characters get introduced. I hope you enjoyed and PLEASE let me know anything you think, suggest, etc. I will be responding to comments!<br/>Take care of yourselves please, this is a stressful time and you deserve it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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